Mission: No comment!
by Worstcase
Summary: Engie is the new member of Captain's merry little squad and he has some very good reasons to hope, that Mr. Snippy wont find out his true identity. Will he manage not to talk to the sniper at all?
1. Zee Mission: New Base

_This story takes place right after Engie gets his codename but before Snippy's mugspection._

* * *

"Zis is a rather nice place you found for us, Pilot." Captain was wandering through the rooms of their new base, admiring the architecture or rather what was left of it and nodding once in a while.

"And look, Captain, what a nice view this room has." Pilot was following him, pointing out the benefits of the place rather eagerly.

"There is a giant crack in that outer wall, several rooms have only half a roof and I saw a hole in the bathroom floor, directly behind the door, somebody is just bound to fall in there at night, probably me! And everything is at ground level! How are we supposed to defend that? What if that creepy stalker comes back?" Snippy was getting angry again. That man seemed to be always angry about something. If he even needed a reason for it, it was probably due to those two other morons never listening to any of his warnings, and the warnings admittedly made some sense this time. Maybe it was the way he was pointing out all those flaws in their planning, that made Seven and Pilot simply want to ignore him. Typcal idiots' way of thinking, Engie, formerly known as Dr. Alexander Gromov concluded.

He had put down the heavy bags full of Captain's shoes at the entrance, sat down on a chair that didn't look like it would crumble in an instant under his weight and tried to stay out of that whole silly argument. Good base or bad base it wasn't his problem, it was Snippy's problem. Gromov wasn't willing to carry those shoes any further today and Seven's luck would protect this place and his 'minions' against all stupid odds anyway.

The argument swiftly moved on to other topics. Now it was about, who would get which room. Pilot was suggesting, that Snippy should sleep in the bathtube and the sniper was suggesting the dog kennel for Pilot. Captain waved both suggestions away, since the bathtube was for all minions to use -Sure! Fat chance, anyone wanting to take a bath in half frozen water.- and the house obviously not having such a thing as a dog kennel in the first place.

"Whatever! I'll just sleep on the couch as always!" Snippy finally shouted.

"Which couch?" Pilot asked innocently.

The sniper looked around.  
"Oh! You little...! You did that on purpose, right? You looked for the only place in the whole town, that doesn't have a couch, just so I would have to sleep on the floor!"

"Feel free to try the shoe rack, you slimy sneaker!" Pilot smugly responded.

"Enough of zat, minions! Zee Captain sais this place wont do like zis. Eet has some mayor flaws! First off Pilot! You will build us a dog kennel at once!"

"Yes, Captain, sir!" Pilot darted out of the door to complete his new mission.

"And Mr. Snippy, you will go find a couch! Try to find one of those neat red ones and make sure there is no bubblegum under the cushions, smallchange is okay, though!"

"You seriously expect me to fetch a couch? How am I supposed to transport it, all alone?"

Gromov mentally cringed: Don't say it! Don't say it! Don't say it!

"Engie will be helping you of course! And while you are out there, look for more bathtubes, I have... plans for them!"

- Crap! -

Gromov didn't want to carry couches, he didn't want to look for bathtubes either, he didn't even want to be out there! Being out there meant being away from Seven's luck, it meant being out there with that mentally unstable, armed, angry ANNET-hater.

-There is no chance he knows, who I am, right?-

Gromov had avoided speaking with Charles Snippy the former tourguide, since he had joined Seven's little collection of madmen.

Good thing the Captain had mentioned the name of the sniper, before the engineer was able to say anything suicidal, like introducing himself with his real name for example. Since then he had been double cautious. Always keeping the mask and the goggles on. That wouldn't look suspicious, there was the constant threat of radiation after all. Would the sniper be able to identify his voice? The chance was low, the gasmask was effectively altering the sound. Yet, Gromov had given several interviews and spoken in a few talkshows, back when the ANNET was going online. The ex-tourguide might recognize a speech pattern, or the russian accent, so better not talking to him at all!

The problem was, that this was only a temporary solution. Gromov would have to talk with Snippy sooner or later. And one day the man would find out, who was hiding behind that rediculous codename of 'Engie' and then,... well, Gromov hoped, that until then he would have proven himself to be an irreplaceable member of this group. Maybe then the sniper would not instantly shoot him.

So now they set out, looking for a red couch without bubblegum but with smallchange, oh, and bathtubes of course probably still for the trafficlight war.

-I should have stayed in my bunker! Who cares about oxygen-pump failures? Breathing is overrated anyway!- .

Engie was basically trotting along after the sniper and watching him.

Making no noise when moving, always finding the spots to step on, where he would leave no tracks, not showing any signs of exhaustion at all, while Gromov was out of breath after a couple of minutes already. That man was outright frightening! And it was surprising how sane he seemed. Hadn't Gromov actually known, what Charles Snippy was like, before the apocalypse, he would never have guessed. Back then, he had looked into a few of those therapy session protocols for the 1%, hoping to find a clue as of why some people seemed to unconsciously reject the ANNET.

Charles Snippy turned out being incredibly pessimistic and further into the sessions more and more aggressive, refractory and paranoid, even implying, that the therapist was nothing more than a cheap computer program, the G-Directorate had set up for cases like his, to pretend that they cared. That Snippy was absolutely correct with his preposterous assumption, didn't mean the man wasn't paranoid. Aside from those annoying letters, this was the main reason for sending a drone after him for nonstop monitoring.

All of those traits of insanity were still there, barely hidden even. Nevertheless they seemed to have toned down from 'gonna get my hands on explosives and blow something up, soon' to an almost... moderate level. Maybe a few hours of extra sleep a day did have a positive effect after all?

It seemed that Pilot had indeed went out of his way to locate the only house without a couch. There were couches all over the place, just no red ones. They had considered just taking a red davenport, they found in one of the old office buildings. But upon further inspection, they discovered, that there were so many wads of old, frozen bubblegum stuck under it, that even the sniper felt disgusted.

Finally as if it was an answer to their silent prayers, they spotted a red sofa in a shop's display. Well maybe it had been bleached by whatever was left of sunlight and weather and was rather pink than actually red, but it would have to do.

They tried lifting it.

It weighed a freaking ton!

There was no way they would be able to move it without a damn forklift!

"It's ice!" the sniper finally stated.

The engineer cast him a questioning gaze.

"This thing must have been soaked with water after the display window broke, and now it's frozen over. If we can melt the ice and dry it somehow, we might be able to lift it."

-So I have the choice between either wasting another few hours of my life with searching for red upholstered furniture or helping a lunatic with cooking a couch?-

After a second of consideration, Engie decided for the lesser evil and helped gathering firewood.


	2. Zee Mission: Hasty Retreat

They had somehow managed to drag the frozen couch out of the window and onto the street. They had piled firewood old newspapers and other flameable things in a semicircle around it and finally started the fire. As long as the the winddirection wouldn't suddenly change, making sparks flying over and turning it into a pile of ashes, the couch would be defrosted and dried within ... Engie actually had no idea. Maybe it would actually have been easier and faster to find a different one.

On the other hand he just wanted this mission done with. It was a simple equation:

_Mr. Snippy = tired, angry, crazy sniper._

_Mr. Snippy + couch = well rested, less angry, less crazy sniper._

_Life expectancy Dr. Gromov + rested sniper :higher than: Life expectancy Dr. Gromov + angry sniper_

_qed._

And at least he could now sit down, near a warm fire and relax for a while, unless of course...

"I guess we can eat something, while we are waiting. I brought some canned stew. Or would you prefer mushroom soup?... Mushrooms can be troublesome, when they're gone off but the can still looks okay, what do you think?"

-Great! He's trying to talk with me again! And not that I can take my mask off and eat anything while he is watching me. Thanks for reminding me of how hungry I am, sniper.-

So Engie just shook his head and continued staring into the flames, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his stomach. It was not like he could smell the stew anyway, with his gasmask on. Unfortunately his imagination was easily able to take over the job his nose was unable to accomplish.

"You sure you aren't hungry? I haven't seen you eating anything the whole day."

-How do I deserve this torture? Isn't there anything to distract me? Anything at all?-

A loud howling, that ended in an insane giggling, coming from the darkness behind the line of wrecked cars made both men jump to their feet. The food was forgotten, from one moment to the next. Another howl and then a third, answered by a whole chorus of barking and giggling noises.

"Engi!"

Gromov stopped trying to spot what was getting closer in the darkness, and turned his head slowly to look at the Sniper.

"Run!"

Strangely enough this option hadn't occured to him before it was mentioned but now as if on command Gromov's legs started to move on their own. Snippy had to grab him by the sleeve and turn him around though, to get him running into the right direction.

Gromov didn't care to look back, to where the sniper was firing bullet after bullet at some glowing yellow eyes, before finally turning around, too and running himself. Reloading, turning around, firing. The sound of many claws scraping over asphalt, barking, more gunshots.

-Aren't wild animals supposed to be afraid of fire?- Engie was running as fast as he could, which wasn't anywhere fast enough for his taste. Snippy wasn't just catchin up he was taking point, while still switching between reloading and shooting.

Despite the adrenaline helping somewhat, Gromov already felt stitches in his sides, he wouldn't be able to keep up, if the chase took any longer.

"Over there!"

Snippy pointed at a damaged tank, that lay half on the side. The caterpillar tracks

were broken and the turret was probably only held together by the rust at this point.

"Get up there and open the hatch! I'll buy some time!" And with that the sniper just stopped running and concentrated completely on shooting.

-How many of those things are out there? He already fired a dozend bullets at them! Is he even hitting anything? Can't he even do that right?-

Gromov pulled himself onto the old warmachine and tried to pry the hatch open. The rust had basically sealed it shut.

"What's taking that long! Hurry up!"

Gromov sighed, without tools, without time, there was just one thing left to try. The very basic concept of mechanics, that every student of engineering learned sooner or later, when dealing with malfunctioning equipment.

Snippy turned around at a loud metallic 'clunk' followed by a low, somewhat gurgling sound, that suspiciously sounded like somebody swallowing down a curse after badly stubbing their toe. With a last protesting grating sound the hatch finally gave way.

The engineer was peering down into the tank, trying to find out what was waiting for them inside. There was no time for this.

"Just jump in there." Snippy shouted, while getting on the tank himself, batting his rifle like a club at a few of the monsters that still tried to come after them.

Without much choice Gromov just closed the eyes, made a step forward and hoped for the best. It wasn't a long drop. Tanks weren't built for being comfortable rides. He managed just to get out of the way before the sniper jumped down, too, slamming the hatch closed behind him. They listened for a while to the claws scratching on the hatch the barking and that infernal giggling in the darkness. Then Snippy used a lighter. The inside of the tank was in surprisingly good condition. Water had gotten in at a few spots but the damage was relatively low. There were no skeletons. So either the crew had abandoned the tank before the nukes hit the town, or this tank had been controlled by the ANNET before the electromagnetical pulse from the bombs had fried its electronics. Snippy climbed into one of the seats and relaxed visibly. He left the lighter on just long enough for Engie to find a seat, too. Then the tank was filled with darness once more.

Gromov could hear the sniper rummaging around in his backpack, then a metallic, grinding noise he had heard earlier this evening already. Finally the sniper lit the lighter again. He handed Engie two paper cups, then he poured the gooey, grey content of a can into them, it looked almost like snot in this lighting. Snippy took one of the cups from the engineer.

"Well, dinner is served: Cold, old mushroom soup, drinking at own risk." With that he turned off the lighter again and left Gromov sitting in the darkness with the difficult decision. Hunger finally won but only after the low sound of snoring betrayed, that the sniper had already fallen asleep.

Gromov sighed. He wouldn't be able to fall asleep that easily, not with those monsters still out there, not with so many things to ponder over.

Gromov never had been very athletic. Sitting all this time in the bunker hadn't been beneficial for his fitness in general and having access to huge amounts of food in combination with being slightly depressed about Annie's betrayal, the apocalypse and believing to be the last survivor hadn't helped either. In the beginning he had tried to stay in shape, but the longer his stay down there had taken, the less and less it had seemed to matter anymore. There was nobody to tell him that he had gained too much weight, no rival to compete with. He had thought he would never again leave the bunker in his whole life. And now everyone and everything out there had a headstart on him, in physical power as well as in madness.

Would he ever be able to catch up on what he had missed? Well not on the madness obviously.

It was no good, he needed something to do! In his bunker he would just maintain the elctronics to calm his nerves but here... Engie searched his pockets until he finally found the small flashlight. There was surely a toolbox around somewhere. Of course this tank was beyond any repair but that didn't mean there wouldn't be any treasures left to find...


	3. Zee Mission: Nightwatch

It was completely beyond Gromov's understanding, how anybody was able to sleep like this. Ever since the Sniper had emptied the cup with the disgusting cold soup, he had been lying there, sprawled over the seat and snoring nonstop. He hadn't woken from Engie accidentally dropping a metal plate, not from the bang of a blasting fuse and neither from the light of the small flashlight, the engineer was currently shining directly into his face, because he just couldn't believe the other man was still out like a chrismas-candle.

-Don't tell me that mushroom-soup was poisonous after all! No! It can't be, I drank it, too and I'm fine!

...

I _am_ fine, right?

No, stop that Alex! If you're looking for possible symptoms you'll definately find them! All you have to fear is the fear itself!

...

Wow! Whoever said that, has never been sitting in a tank in the middle of frozen ruins, together with an armed, crazy gunner, who doesn't even know yet, that he actually hates him, surrounded by bloodthirsty mutated monsters, and a mushroom soup in the belly, that has been expired for god knows how many years!

...

If I want to sleep ever again, I really need to start to see things more positively!-

Engie briefly removed his goggles to rub his temples.

So all in all he had found a nice, still half full battery, which had once supplied the navigation console of the tank with energy, it even was rechargeable. There had been a few other useful parts, now safely stored away in his bag. In the moment there weren't any electronic parts left to harvest, or at least none that were easy to carry but he had found a bunch of still useable tools as well. The monsters couldn't come in, tomorrow, when the sun was up they'd probably be gone and he should rest now. And he would absolutely not fall into panic and imagine to feel ill because of a damn soup!

He let himself sink back into his own seat and turned off the flashlight.

The backrest was pressing into his back in all the wrong places.

Gromov sighed.

This would be some miserable night!

After much tossing and turning and several more hours of just staring into the darkness, he finally managed to close his eyes.

Gromov was sure he had only slept for maybe half an hour, when a terrible screeching noise started him up. The sniper had opened the hatch and dim, grey daylight fell in.

"Finally awake?" Snippy asked, as if it had been him, who had been awake and alert the whole night.

"Everything is quiet outside, just let me see whether it's safe." with this the other man climbed out of the tank and disappeared from Engie's vision.

-When is anything ever safe out there?- Gromov thought grumpily. On the other hand, when Charles Snippy the most pessimistic person he knew in the world, said it was safe, that should probably be good enough.

"Coast is clear! Get up here. We need to get back to the base. But first we need to pick up, what's left of the couch!"

The engineer crawled out of the seat and stretched his aching back. This only led to him bumping his head on the narrow ceiling. It was really about time to leave! After he made sure he hadn't forgotten anything useful he carefully climbed up the rusty ladder.

"Come on Engie! We need to hurry! The rest of the pack is gone by now but the corpses will lure in every single crawler worm in the vicinity! And neither you nor me want to be here when they show up, believe me!"

This new information made Gromov almost fall from the tank in hurry. Nevertheless he couldn't help but think:

-Corpses? You want to tell me you actually shot more than one of the things? Come on it was pitch black night, you were running and firing at the same time. How many monsters, could you have possibly... oh...-

Bodies littered the road, dark shapes easily to tell apart from the bright snow and ash.

Some had four legs some had more. One even had two heads. The fur was a wild mixture of white, black, grey, pink, green, blue and brown colors and those things came in many different sizes. All of them had undoubtly belonged to the same species once, before they had been horribly mutated. It was at least a dozend cadavers, and a few blood stained spots indicated, that the surviving members of the pack had dragged a few more bodies away as a substitute for the escaped human prey.

"I really hate running into those." Snippy shook his head as he walked toward the faint column of smoke rising from yesterdays fire. "They always come in numbers, don't tire and of course they don't fear fire."

-Those are mutated hyenas, right?- Engie tried not to look at the things too closely, but actually he knew very well, what those monsters once had been. Another great service the Good Directorate Inc. had provided to the happy, ever paying customers: Genetically improved housepets!

-Should I ever get my hands on those freaks from the Biological and Cybernetical Engineering department, I'm gonna kill them with the first weapon in my reach... and I hope that will be a can opener.- knowing that the directorate had to take blame for more than just the ANNET didn't really help to make Gromov's burden any lighter, even though for once he couldn't be blamed for it personally.

With all those gloomy thoughts, finding the red couch intact, defrosted and dried was kind of underwhelming, at least for the engineer. The sniper seemed almost in a good mood, as he pushed the black remains of the firewood aside and tried to lift one side of the sofa. It was still heavy but to Snippy's and Gromov's relief, transporting it would no longer require spinal disc surgery afterwards.

So Engie let Snippy guide the way back again in silence.

It was strange, the closer they got to the headquarters, the more Gromov felt the urge to say something to the other man. It was just a few more minutes and they would be back with the others. He would have ample opportunity to speak with Seven, when none of the -Engie still frowned at the phrase and everything it entailed- 'other minions' were listening. And yet he was fighting with himself to talk and off all people with Charles Snippy.

-Maybe I should say at least 'thank you' or something, he kind of rescued me yesterday.

...

Just a single word! He seems calm enough so maybe now is a good time to...-

All of a sudden, Snippy cursed, let go of his end of the couch, raised his rifle up and fired a shot.

Glas splintered.

-Oh god! He shot a parking meter! Tell me he didn't just shoot a parking meter! Which idiot ever suggested giving a member of the 1% weapon training?-

The sniper turned around to the engineer, who was still holding his part of the couch.

"That was a close one! Come on, help me to loot that thing! We almost forgot Captain's smallchange."

As Engie stumbled after the sniper he made a mental note:

-Next time feeling the urge to talk in the presence of Charles Snippy, ...bite off own tongue!-


	4. Zee Mission: Blueprint

Captain turned the red cushions, held one of the coins up to study it before stuffing it back and poked at every single one of the scorch marks (leaving the fire burning unchecked over night had not been completely without cosequences). Engie couldn't help feeling reminded of a mother in law running a finger through the dust on the mantlepiece.

"Why is this couch smelling of burnt rubber?" Seven finally inquired.

"For two reasons, we probably shouldn't have thrown car tires into the fire and your gasmask needs new filters." Snippy's response sounded almost cheerful.

"Nonesense Mr. Snippy! Car tires are zee kindling materials of awesomeness! Well, you are late, but your mission was a success, meine minions! So let's see what you can do for your Captain today!"

"Whatever it is I'm sure I will regret it."

Somehow Engie had the feeling that Mr. Snippy was right with this assumption and worst of all: The day had barely begun. But what choice did he have? With a sigh he followed Seven and the sniper into the building and hoped, that he'd at least get a breakfast before he was sent out to catch an uranium elemental or built a window cleaning machine or any other such nonesense.

Much later, after a day full of awful chores, the engineer remembered the battery he had scavenged. Returning to his room he carefully put it on his working desk and stared at it for several minutes.

This battery could be the core of the solution to all ... well at least some of his problems. The question was, what to build with it. It had to be something, that would impress Seven, so he would forget about the stupid battle-bathtube plan. And even more important, it had to be something that impressed the sniper as well.

-Maybe I could use it to power a car?

No!

Motors have been using gasoline since forever for a reason.-

Most electrical motors just hadn't enough power to move something as heavy as a vehicle, at least if one didn't believe in the conspiracy theories saying that the oil industry had sabotaged any efforts in that direction. Engie sighed. That totally sounded like something the Good Directorate would have done.

Anyway, he didn't have the time to build a genious new electric motor from scrap. A bunch of normal ones would be possible though. Like those he used to built Annie's body.

-No again!-

Building a robot would probably be the worst idea ever in the moment. He could as well wear a t-shirt with the slogan :

"Hey I'm Dr. Gromov, please shoot me!"

Besides one out of control AI was really enough already.

-Far too complicated, I have to think of something much simpler to construct. I don't even have the materials to built an artificial brain. I don't have enough material to built all those micro servos necessary to move a robotic body around either. I'd be lucky to even find enough material to built an outer shell for a robot... ... That's it!-

Pulling an all-nighter was far more difficult without coffee than Gromov had expected, but in the morning the construction plans were ready. He somehow stumbled through the beginning of the day until he crashed onto the couch for a few hours of sleep. He wondered briefly whether Snippy would protest about that, but it seemed like the bathtube, the couch was for all minions to use, at least during daytime. It smelled really badly of burned rubber though.

Engie's afternoon was spent with gathering metal pieces of the right size and roughly the right form for his new project. He didn't have the equipment to cut or to form them. It was hard enough even to weld them together properly. Another allnighter followed, this time it was easier. Gromov managed to work until lunchtime of the next day.

Seven probably thought, the engineer was still working on the -sigh- bathtubes, since nobody interrupted him even once.

And now it was finished! Gromov examined it critically. It looked far less elegant than his usual work. The battery pack on the backside would be able to power it for several hours, maybe even for a few days and even then he could try to reload it.

The metal plates were an adequate armoring. Motors in the arms and in the legs helped with moving it around. And it could be freely upgraded with weapons, if he ever found any. All in all this battlesuite looked promising enough, even though one couldn't compare it to the huge battlestations the Good Directorate had controlled before the apocalypse.

Now came the truly critical phase, the moment of truth: Gromov had to show his new invention to Captain.

Luckily Seven had been bored, when Engie found him. He had been sitting on the couch, a remote control in hand, zapping through the 'channels' of an old and broken tv, that Pilot had unsuccessfully tried to turn into a dog kennel a while earlier. Captain was complaining loudly about all those reiterations of old Bonanza episodes, which he had all seen already, when he was a little girl, and that all channels showed advertisements at exactly the same time.

So inspecting a new 'superweapon' was a welcome change in his eyes.

Engie climbed into the suit and showed how easy it was to move around in, while the armor plating would successfully protect him from most hazardous dangers. All the while hoping, that Captain would NOT try to find out, whether it was tea proof.

The first comment came from the sniper, though:

"An engineer building himself some super armor? Wasn't there a movie like that." he seemed not very intrerested.

Finally Captain spoke:

"Zis is really delicious! With zis, Engie will go on zee Captain's special missions."

-Delicious, indeed! With this armor I can finally... Wait! What special missions?-

"I didn't know there were ... special missions?" Snippy carefully inquired.

"I will go on special missions for you!" Pilot piped up.

"No mein Pilot, zee special missions are too complex for normal minions, zey are for zee superminions only."

"Superminions? Why is he suddenly a superminion? I bet Photoshop could eat that shoe completely with this stupid armor of his." Pilot cast Engie a gaze of pure hatred. Then he sat down in a corner pouting and drawing pictures on the wall of a crawler worm swallowing what looked like a tiny figure in an armor and another one with a small rifle in one gulp.

The sniper wasn't done with the topic, yet, either:

"You mean those special missions are more lethal than that pearl-diving exercise you forced us to do on 'Oystern'? Worse than 'Sushi day'? Or the parking garage Jenga? ... Is that even possible?" Snippy's voice carried a mixture of disbelieve and dread. "What are you gonna make him do? Juggling nukes?"

"Zat is top secret mein sniper!" Captain answered calmly, while sipping tea. "But we all should go for zee sushi again, soon, zat was superb!"

To Gromov's surprise Pilot started whimpering on that announcement and Snippy muttered something about cleaning his rifle, looking into the barrel and about an 'unfortunate accident' hopefully putting him out of his misery.

-What is so bad about sushi? I ate some on occasion before the apocalypse. Of course raw fish isn't... Oh!

Damn! Worse than that? Maybe building this armor was not as brilliant an Idea as I thought. I need to talk myself out of this, ...quickly!-

"You can't sent him out onto the suicide missions, just because he is wearing a tincan! What about the suit's obvious design flaw?" Snippy suddenly asked and Gromov felt a surprising mix of feelings.

There was the relief: -Somebody reasonable!-

A faint feeling of gratitude: -He tries to save my life!-

And... a major feeling of annoyance: -Which obvious design flaw?! What does an ex-pencil-pusher and ex-tourguide know about battlesuit designs? I made all the calculations! This armor is perfect!-

Captain once more looked the armor up and down again, trying to spot, what the sniper was talking about.

"Eet could use some refreshing paintjob, indeed!"

Mr. Snippy sighed: "Just let me demonstrate." And before the engineer was able to react, the sniper stepped forward, put a hand on the armored shoulder and pushed.

Gromov in his battlesuit went down like a felled tree, just making a lot more noise. The battery pack sizzled as the suit's energy supply short circuited.

-Ouch! Damn you, you jerk! So you think I wont be able to get back up! Is that all you got, sniper? Of course I took that into consideration! I can bend my arms backwards enough to... –

The armor was cluttering ineffectively on the ground, as the engineer tried to sit up.

He tried to roll to the side, tried again to sit up, struggled with the legs and finally came to the conclusion:

-Without the motors I ...can't... lift... that much weight!-

"Zis indeed needs some redesign it seems. Mr. Snippy, you mentioned a movie about a super-armor. Go at once and find us a copy of eet. Watching will help Engie improving zat armor of his own!

-Hey! Wait! Help me up before you leave!-

"Great this will take a while! I don't even remember the name of that movie! And we don't have anything to play it on anyway. But of course the stupid tasks always end up on my to-do list..." the sniper's voice faded in the distance as he walked off .

"So, what else do we need for a nice movie evening? We have a couch, we have zee teevees... Of course we need zee popcorns!"

"There is a microwave oven in the kitchen, Captain!" Pilot reported happy to be of help.

"Zen let's go my minion! Popped corn ees the best when eaten fresh, now we only have to solve zee question of questions: Sweet or salty?"

"Sweet! Sweet! Sweet!"

"Sweet is good indeed but even better: We'll make both! Now where did Snippy hide zem matches again?"

-Good lord! They're gonna burn the whole building down! Get back here, Charles! And help me! –

Gromov tried again to get up, the armor clattering loudly but to no avail.

In the end he was lying there on the back like a turtle for the entire evening until the sniper finally returned, just in time to take out a raging kitchen fire.

In the end Engie and Snippy were forced to reenact the whole movie plot with an improvised script provided by zee Captain, since none of them actually knew or remembered, what the film really was about. It probably had less unicorns than Captain's version, though.

After that Engie had to keep that awful tincan on for another couple of hours, while Captain and Pilot decorated it with spray paint and glitterdust, before he was finally allowed to stumble into his makeshift bed.

The first thing in the next morning, Gromov took that armor apart, burned the blueprints and informed the Captain, that the whole experiment had been a total failure. Unfortunately, at least for Mr. Snippy, Captain had always a plan B.

And in this case the 'B' was for bucket...


End file.
